


Intemperate Indeed

by cookiesandcreambrownies



Series: In Bocca Al Lupo [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Dwarf Giant!Herc, Elf!Alex, Fae!Jefferson, Fae!Madison, Gen, Happy Ending, Mer!Laurens, Necromancer!Burr, Necromancer!Philip, No cliffhanger this time, Nonbinary Character, Shapeshifter!Laf, Siren!Maria, Soulreader!Burr, Sprite!Peggy, Vampire!Angelica, Warlock!Washington, Werepanther!Laf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiesandcreambrownies/pseuds/cookiesandcreambrownies
Summary: King George is dead by Maria's hand. By all accounts, it should be a time of celebration for the IIU.But their greatest victory comes with their greatest loss, and everything comes at a price. The cost for this one? Alex's life.Now, with only one shot to get him back, the IIU embarks on a cross-country trip to find the person that holds the metaphorical key -Burr.
Series: In Bocca Al Lupo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885426
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	1. We Have A Problem (And A Solution)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alinal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinal/gifts).



> See? Told you I would gift you a fic, alinal. 
> 
> In other news, I'M BACKKKKK! And my temporary hiatus has ended, which is less fun for me but more fun for you, hopefully.

The room fell into shadows.  
Ange looked up, annoyed that the light source - a propped-open door - had been blocked. "What the fuck?"  
The figure in the doorframe tsked. "Really?"  
Oh. "Washington, sir?" she asked tentatively.  
He nodded.  
"Oops."  
Washington chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I come bearing news." At this, Ange jumped up.  
"About Alex?"  
He nodded again.  
"Okay, I'll go get the team, we're going to the main room - could you meet us there? We shouldn't be too long." She streaked out of the room before he could answer.  
With her supernatural speed, Ange got the news out in no time at all.  
The IIU gathered in the common room, where Washington was waiting. He stared them down before sighing. "I told Angelica it was news about Alex, but I'm afraid it's more about Burr."  
"Where is he?" Laf asked.  
There was an unusual beat of hesitation. "I can't tell you," he said at length. Ange's stomach dropped.  
"Why not?"  
"I can't tell you," Washington repeated. The monotonous voice, and the repeated words - _like a robot,_ she thought, but one glance with her magic told her that this was, indeed, Washington - grated on her nerves.  
" _Why?_ " Ange pressed.  
Washington just shook his head. "I can't tell you."  
Something snapped.  
"Stop telling me you can't tell me!" she screamed. "Why did you even come here, then?!"  
"I can't tell you."  
She snarled. " _Tell me._ "  
"I can't tell you."  
With a wordless shriek, she flung her magic out, reaching towards the warlock, intending to _take_ the information from his brain.  
Instead, it encountered several different minds - her teammates, a voice in the back of her mind noted impassively.  
Ange ripped through them with barely a thought.  
Distantly, she could hear the screams as she cleaved their minds in half. Still, she only had eyes for Washington, sitting on the opposite side of the table.  
Her magic slammed into a wall.  
It wasn't physical; this was a mental barrier, purely formed from magic. And, quite obviously, it was the warlock's doing.  
He was currently looking at her, eyes wide, as she raged and pounded against his mind. "Angelica, this isn't you."  
Baring her teeth, she replied, "What isn't me?"  
"This is the Dearg Due, Angelica. Control it!" His words fell flat.  
Ange laughed humorlessly. "This isn't the Dearg Due, and you should be glad. If it was, you'd be on the floor right now, insane or catatonic."  
His shock at her words allowed the briefest of cracks to appear in the wall. She slipped in before he could close it back up.  
Once inside, it didn't take long for her to find what she was looking for.  
The implications left her breathless.  
She retreated, pulling her magic back into her own body and staring at Washington, slightly incredulous.  
"Really?"  
He nodded grimly. "Now heal your teammates before they actually go insane."  
Oh.  
Ange looked around at the assorted supernaturals curled up on the floor, faces scrunched up in pain. "Shit," she cursed. Her magic once again flew out, but this time it mended the tears in the minds of her friends.  
Laf recovered first, groaning. "What the fuck?" they mumbled. "Ange?"  
“Er, yeah. Sorry about that.” She put what she hoped was an appropriately sheepish expression on her face.  
“No shit? What did you do?” This was Laurens, as foul-mouthed as usual.  
“I may or may not have torn your minds apart in an effort to get Washington’s information from his mind. Why were you guys in the way?”  
Before anyone could answer, Peggy cut in. “Wait, wait,” she said, hands held up. “Did you just say we went insane?”  
“Well, if you hadn’t already, you were well on the way, so. Yes.”  
“Please don’t ever do that again.”  
She paused, the silence uncomfortable. “I’ll try not to.”  
Eliza broke the ensuing silence. “Okay, so what did you find out? Anything?”  
“Yeah. Washington, sir, how the hell did Burr manage to put you in his debt? Like, truly and honestly, I didn’t think that was possible.”  
He sighed. “Burr has been around for almost as long as I have, Angelica. This debt… it was over ten millennia ago. I have no idea why he called it in for something as simple as guarding his location.”  
“I do,” Jefferson said.  
Ange turned around so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “What?” she said in tandem with everyone else.  
Jefferson shrugged under their looks. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m really, really old, okay?”  
“Okay,” she said impatiently. “So why?”  
“Simple. He hates Alex.”  
_What._ The very idea that someone could hate Alex - inquisitive, cunning Alex, a High Elf - was preposterous.  
“Why?”  
Jefferson shrugged again. “I don’t know. But that’s been word on the street for some time now.”  
Electing to ignore that bit of information, Ange said, "Also, Burr’s in D.C. right now," the non sequitur creating looks of bemusement on some of the team’s faces.  
“D.C.? That shouldn’t be too bad then.” Still, there was something in the Fae’s voice that suggested he knew it would be a stretch to catch Burr there.  
Ange's mind raced. "Okay, so we can be there in an hour, give or take, so start packing. Eliza, stay here with Alex, please. And Washington. Everyone else, comms and weapons, go."  
The team rushed up to their floors to prepare.  
Ten minutes later, they were all assembled on the ground floor again. She turned to Washington. "Any people you need killed in D.C., sir?"  
"Hmm, let's see. If you could please get these people, that'd be great." He handed Ange a list, names scrawled in pencil on the paper.  
She tucked it away without even looking. "Will do, sir. See you all in front of the Lincoln Memorial." Without another word, she ran out the door, using her super speed.  
As she ran, she fiddled with the little earpiece haphazardly stuck in her ear until it crackled to life. "Testing, can you hear me?" Ange asked.  
"Loud and clear," Eliza confirmed. "Rerouting to main channel."  
The speaker burst out in sound as Ange was connected to the rest of the team.  
"Testing-"  
"-five minutes-"  
"Laurens-"  
"Hello?"  
"-of course."  
"Holy shit, guys, pipe down," she barked. "ETA?"  
"Half an hour," Laf said.  
"Forty," added Laurens. Ange wasn't surprised. Laurens was one of the members of the team who wasn't able to go as fast as she was.  
The rest of them checked out as well - as expected, Herc and Maria would also be a little later than the rest of them.  
Ange arrived in Washington, D.C. twenty minutes later and was at the Lincoln Memorial in two. She chose a discreet corner to wait for everyone else.  
It wasn't long before Laf and Jefferson arrived, Peggy close behind. Laurens, Herc, and Maria were here five minutes later.  
"Okay, guys. We'll be staying here for a while, trying to find Burr and filling an assignment or ten at the same time. Fair warning, I don't know if these are supernatural or not, so we'll be relying on Eliza and Washington a lot. Never take your comms out, got it?"  
A chorus of assent greeted her words.  
She nodded. "Good. Spread out."


	2. In Which The Solution Causes More Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HERCULES MULLIGAN!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hercules' POV was kinda hard to write, to be honest, because we don't see much of him in the musical. Hopefully I did something right?   
> Also, happy Halloween! :)

Herc was still reeling from the effects of Ange's magic three days later - who knew she was so powerful?   
Well, at least in terms of magic.   
He didn't have any magic himself, but with a warlock as the highest authority in his life and several teammates who had powers that included magic, he was quite familiar with it. The kind of power Ange had shown was something he'd never seen before.   
Then again, had he ever seen Washington really mad before?   
Herc shook his head - he was getting off topic. Right now, he was supposed to be on the lookout for one of the many politicians of D.C. - a senator for one state or another, if he remembered correctly.   
The small pistol, his only weapon (the rest were in the hotel room somewhere), slid comfortably into his hand as the target strode out of one of the buildings across the street.   
"I've got eyes," he announced.   
"Backup ready," Peggy, his partner on this assignment, responded. He could make out a faint outline of her form on another rooftop far away.   
It was the only confirmation he needed.   
The sun glinted off the barrel of the gun as he held it up, lining it up with the target.   
_How cliché_ , a voice in the back of his mind said.   
Herc ignored it.   
A silencer attached to the muzzle took care of the noise as he pulled the trigger, the pistol jumping a little. He watched impassively as the target jerked and crumpled to the ground in a heap, which elicited screams from some of the passerby.   
"Mission accomplished," he felt compelled to say, even though no one actually said that seriously except in movies.   
Peggy snorted. "Really, Herc?"   
"What?" he asked faux-innocently, holding back a laugh.   
"You know what. Come on, let's go before the mortal authorities show up."   
Herc wholeheartedly approved of that idea and bounded to the next rooftop over, making his way back to the rendezvous spot. Barring any extenuating circumstances, Peggy would meet him there in a few minutes.   
He made it back without any problems. Peggy was already waiting for him, foot tapping impatiently. As soon as he was within reach, she snagged his arm and pulled him along.   
For a sprite, she had a lot of strength.   
"Come on, come on," she said impatiently. "Not only are they" -the rest of the team- "waiting for us, but we had to execute the mission in broad daylight. I'm feeling very twitchy right now, so hurry up before I blow something up."   
Herc was sure she actually would, what with her control over fire and such. He hurried after her just in case she decided to blow something up anyways.   
They entered the diner together, making their way to the back where the team had claimed a corner booth large enough to fit seven people.   
"Hey guys," he greeted. "How was it?"   
Ange shot him a look. "Enough small talk. Did you guys finish your assignments?"   
There were nods all around.   
Ange smiled, looking satisfied. "Good. Now, let's start figuring out Burr. Any leads?"   
Laf piped up. "There's no one named Aaron Burr in any public - or private - records. I checked to ten years back."   
"He's not a politician, that's for sure," Jefferson remarked. "I'd have heard if he was."   
"Okay," Ange said slowly. "So he has an alias, a way to make money, and little to no public presence. Got it."   
Peggy looked at the vampire warily. "What are you planning, Ange?"   
"Nothing." The beatific smile she had did nothing to convince any of them.   
Herc watched Ange through narrowed eyes. "No, really, Ange, what're you doing?"   
*Something that makes our job much easier," was the reply. And not a very reassuring one at that.   
Without warning, Ange's red eyes began to glow so that they looked less like rust and more like fresh blood. Her hands tightened on the table, almost to the point of crushing it between her fingers. Herc tried to gently pry them off before they had to pay for damages.   
One hand flew out with shocking speed to grip his wrist. "If you want to live, skin-to-skin contact isn't a particularly good idea," Ange warned.   
"Why?" He made no move to extricate his hand, even though Ange's grip _hurt_.   
"Because at best you'll go insane, at worst you'll die."   
Right. Because that explained so much.   
Still, he made no move to do anything, wrist still encased by Ange's - and now he noticed - _gloved_ fingers. Ah. So at least he wouldn't go insane. Or die. Whatever.   
Abruptly, she flung one hand out and curled it into a fist. A glimmer of red shone through.   
The team looked on in confusion. Herc shrugged. "I don't know."   
The unspoken question was answered easily enough when a stranger opened the diner door and headed straight for their booth, his eyes slightly glazed over.   
Ange released Herc.   
His arm fell on the table with a thud, but he ignored it in favor of staring, along with everyone else, at the mystery person, who had seated himself right at the edge of the booth.   
"Ange," Laurens began, "who is this?"   
Her lips curled into a dangerous smile, fist still held out. "May I present Aaron Burr."   
There were several gasps.   
"Okay," Herc said levelly. "And what are you doing to him?"   
"Controlling his mind, of a sort."   
It was as he'd suspected, and he didn't particularly like it. Still, at least they'd caught Burr, against all odds.   
Ange finally released Burr, the glow in her eyes fading. "Hello, Burr," she greeted pleasantly, like she hadn't just compelled him to come from who knows where.   
Burr's eyes snapped to her face. "You," he hissed, jerking back like he'd been shocked.   
"Me," Ange agreed. "Will you help us?"   
He scoffed. "No. Why would I do that?" A glint that made Herc uneasy came into his eyes. "Unless, that is, you're willing to make a deal?"   
"Let me rephrase that. Help us, or you die."   
"I can't die." It was a well-rehearsed response, one that probably wasn't false, either.   
Ange said, with all the confidence of a master bluffer, "I can kill you."   
By the look on Burr's face, he didn't know that it was a lie. Not that Herc was surprised; even he had trouble sometimes telling Ange's truth from lies. And he was _very_ good at spotting lies. In fact, the only person who could consistently see through Ange was Alex, and maybe Washington.   
"This conversation is over." Before anyone could react, Burr… _shimmered_ and disappeared.   
Ange had one hand outstretched. "Fuck." Her eyes started to glow again, presumably to find Burr. Jefferson cut her off.   
"He's not going to be in D.C. anymore. If he's true to form, he'll head to another city to hide out until another threat comes."   
"And will he be true to form?"   
There was a beat, like the Fae was weighing his answer. "Yes. He'd do anything to get as far from you as possible."   
"Is there any way we can counteract that disappearing act of his?"   
Laf interrupted before Jefferson could do more than shrug. "No," they said with certainty. "What he does… it's something called soulwalking. I've only seen it a few times in my life. The extent of my understanding is that he can access a different plane that the rest of us can't."   
"Stop using that French accent of yours," Ange said absently. "It's atrocious and you don't need it."   
Laf looked like they wanted to say something but held back. "Fair enough."   
"Okay, so next question is where Burr's gone to. I swear, if we have to hunt him down transcontinentally…" Ange trailed off with a growl.   
With a shake of her head, she recomposed herself.   
"Laf, get Washington on the line. I want to see if he has any way of preventing Burr from accessing the… let's call it the spirit plane for now. The spirit plane, even temporarily."   
Laf nodded. "On it."   
"Jefferson, I want you to get your contacts to search for Burr in as many places as possible. And don't give me that look - I know more people owe you debts than should be reasonably possible."   
"But what if I don't want to call in those debts?"   
Ange stared him down. "Are you part of this team or not?"   
"Yes," Jefferson responded, swallowing.   
"Then do your part. This is for Alex, don't forget that."   
Face pale, the Fae nodded.   
Ange continued. "Laurens, I want you hunting for information. Yes, you have permission to bash some heads if you need to." Laurens nodded, grinning.   
"Herc, you're to go through official channels. I'm sure we have something," she waved a hand in the air to illustrate her point, "registered with the proper sources. I'll have Eliza hunt down the actual paperwork."   
Herc nodded, already combing through his memories to try and figure out what, exactly, the IIU was in the eyes of mortals. When he couldn't come up with anything, he mentally shrugged. Eliza would take care of it.   
"Peggy, Maria, and I will be finishing the rest of the assignments. Everyone understood?"   
When her words were met with nods, she smiled sharply. "Good. Get started."   
Herc took the liberty of going back to his hotel room before linking his comm to Eliza.   
"Hey, Eliza?" he asked quietly, wary of any eavesdroppers.   
"Yeah?"   
"Could you figure out what the IIU is put down as on government paperwork?"   
He could hear her grin. "Of course. Is this in any way related to the mysterious call Washington got a few minutes ago?"   
"Maybe," he allowed.   
Eliza hummed. "Got it. We are, officially, a branch of the CIA. The head of the CIA is a supernatural, so no worries about using your badge."   
"My badge?"   
"Right. You probably didn't know about it, huh? Can you run back real quick to get it?"   
Herc considered. He'd take two hours or so, but it would be worth it. "Yeah. I'll be there in an hour. Thanks, Eliza."   
"Anything for you."   
He heard her unspoken words just fine - _anything for Alex_.


	3. In Which We Do Not Actually Address The Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the bad news chapter, but it should get better from here on out. Oh, wait...

The first piece of bad news came in the form of words. Laf had been informed by Washington, in no uncertain terms, that he couldn't help. The only thing they could hope for was to ambush Burr.  
They weren't looking forward to giving Ange the news - the chances that she'd break their mind again were usually next to none, but when it came to Alex, all bets were off - but reluctantly found themselves standing in front of her room that night.  
"Come in," Ange called.  
"Hey."  
She looked up from some papers on her desk. "Hey, Laf. What is it?"  
They swallowed. "Washington said he couldn't help."  
"Well, fuck." She frowned. "Anything else?"  
"Our best bet is to ambush Burr," they reported. "And then tranq him."  
"Put in an order of tranq darts," Ange said promptly. "Ten to a person, fitted for standard issue pistols - everyone brought one, right?"  
Laf shrugged. "I think? Besides, even if one of us didn't, it's not like it would take us too long to run back."  
"Valid," she decided. "Cool. That's it for you, then - wanna help with some of," she motioned to the mess on her desk, "this?"  
"What, paperwork?"  
She groaned. "Yes. Peggy, Maria, and I already finished the list - we just have to fill this out for the archives. It's giving me a headache."  
A corner of their mouth quirked up. "I highly doubt you could even get a concussion, much less a headache."  
Ange waved his statement away. "Beside the point. Help?"  
"Yeah, sure. I don't mind paperwork, anyways." It was something borne of years of patience as an interrogator.  
"Thank you," she sighed. "I'm going to hunt."  
They watched her go. "Don't drink too much!"  
"I won't," her voice floated through the air. "I'm not an _amateur_."  
Laf debated whether or not to ask her if she was hunting animals or people but decided it wasn't worth it. With a sigh, they sat down at the wooden desk and picked up a pen.  
***  
The second piece of bad news came in the form of a person.  
Laf had fallen asleep (yes, they actually slept sometimes, despite not needing to) at the desk, as Ange hadn't been back by midnight. There was no point in moving all the paperwork to their room when Ange's room was so conveniently empty.  
They were woken up by someone shaking their shoulder. "Wake up," the person said.  
Without meaning to, Laf lashed out in the general direction of the voice. They blinked the heaviness away and found themselves pinning a very surprised Peggy to the ground.  
"Fuck- you-" she said, scrabbling at the hand around her throat.  
Laf released her immediately, a sheepish expression on their face. "Sorry?"  
"You fucker," Peggy told them in response, but she had a small smile on her face. She sobered. "You're needed in your room."  
"Um."  
A sigh. "Just go. You'll see why for yourself."  
There was really nothing to say to that, so they ran out the door, down the hall, and wrenched the other door open.  
"What is it?"  
Ange looked up, sleeves soaked in blood, a relieved expression on her face. "Laf! Thank goodness you're here. He needs help."  
Their eyes followed the blood soaking the carpet to a body lying on the floor.  
Laf peered closer.  
They gasped. "Is that Laurens?"  
She nodded grimly.  
"Okay. What happened, and what is the extent of his injuries?"  
"I found him as I was heading back by the scent of his blood - he was passed out in an alley. As far as I can tell, he's got a stab wound to the stomach, two black eyes, a split lip, and a head wound."  
"Uh-huh. Got it. Did you patch up his head wound yet?"  
"Yes."  
"Is there poison in his bloodstream?" They had to be methodical about this - the team couldn't afford to lose another person.  
"Not as far as I can tell."  
Laf nodded decisively. "Good. What do you need me to do?"  
"Can you help me get him back to headquarters? Eliza can take care of him, I think." It was a good idea, except for one thing:  
"Let's bandage the wound first, yeah?" Laf asked.  
She nodded mutely.  
Together, they managed to stem the flow of blood long enough for Ange to carry him back to headquarters.  
She came back less than an hour later. "Tell the team we're leaving immediately. We're going to Chicago. This has gone on long enough."  
Laf nodded and sighed. Chicago was a lot farther than D.C. from New York, and any more life-threatening injuries would be a lot harder to treat so far away from headquarters. Nonetheless, they had to catch Burr.  
"Chicago it is."  
***  
The third piece of bad news came in the form of an action, though it was on a much smaller scale than, say, Laurens almost dying.  
Running to Chicago was a blur.  
It was two hours of going as fast as they could without collapsing, Ange and Jefferson smudges of colors at their side. They heard Ange at some point, asking, "Anything we need to do in Chicago, sir?"  
Laf had almost answered until they realized she was talking to Washington.  
Other than that, it was silent.  
When they finally arrived at the city limits, Jefferson motioned for them to slow down. Ange shot him a look but complied.  
As they waited for the others to arrive, Ange went over a paper. "Okay, so we've got a few more assignments here - Washington's really clearing the opposition, huh?"  
It was true - they usually had nowhere near as many assignments as they were being given on this cross-country trip.  
Laf crossed their arms. "Well, as long as we're on the right path, I don't mind."  
"Me neither," Ange said, scoffing. "My moral compass was destroyed a long time ago. It's just interesting to note."  
They shrugged without responding.  
That was how Laf found themself in a sniper's position on the balcony of some building or another ten minutes later, Ange on the street below. "Which one is it?" they muttered into the comms.  
"Blue suit, black tie, tall."  
"Briefcase?"  
"Yeah."  
They adjusted the scope of the rifle, careful to keep within the shadows of the overhang.  
Breathe in, breathe out… pull.  
The rifle jumped in their hands, the recoil from the shot causing the gun to nearly hit them in the shoulder. Laf managed to keep it under control.  
A quick glance down on the street that _should_ have confirmed the kill instead showed them something shocking - the man was still walking, calm as you please.  
"Ange," they whispered. "That's a supernatural. I literally just shot him."  
Down on the street, they could see her change her posture. Where before she was slightly hunched over, inconspicuous, now Ange was standing tall, head held high.  
"Ange, what are you doing?"  
Without missing a beat, she replied, "You said he's a supernatural, right? So we're taking him down the supernatural way."  
The declaration filled Laf with dread.  
Still, they could do nothing but watch as Ange reached the man and flicked out a hand, red shimmering around her fingertips.  
The supernatural gasped and fell to the floor, convulsing.  
Laf watched as the passerby did nothing but walk around the two as though there was a traffic cone instead of two people on the sidewalk. Upon closer inspection, they noticed that each and every person had glazed eyes. Ange. Of course, they should have known.  
She curled the other hand into a fist and the man stopped breathing.  
“Ange, you good?” Laf knew better than most how deeply Ange could sink into her killing calm.  
A deep breath came over the comms. “Yes. How do you want to get rid of the body?”  
Humming, they replied, “Burn it.”  
“Good idea. Check on Jefferson and the others, will you? I’ve got it covered.”  
***  
The fourth piece of bad news came in the form of a letter.  
It was delivered to the hotel they were staying at, addressed to a Ms. Angelica de Medici. Ange had taken one look at it, paled beyond what Laf had thought possible, and nearly ripped the envelope from the receptionist’s hands.  
“Upstairs,” she ordered, and swept past them to the stairs.  
Laf decided not to object and followed.  
The two of them met with the rest of the team, who were waiting in Laf’s room for a solid lead before doing anything about Burr. Peggy jumped up when they entered.  
“What happened?”  
Jefferson watched them through narrowed eyes. “Yes, what happened?”  
Ange ignored them, opening the envelope and drawing out the paper folded inside. “How did he… no one’s called me that for six centuries now,” she muttered to herself.  
There was a moment of silence as she read the letter and the team watched, bemused.  
“Okay,” Laf felt compelled to ask, “Ange, do you mind explaining?”  
She took a deep breath. “This is from Burr.”  
That, in and of itself, was worrying enough, but they could tell that it wasn’t all. “What else?”  
“It was addressed to Angelica di Medici, you saw that, right?”  
Laf nodded.  
“At one point in time, approximately six centuries ago, I was part of the Medici family, which, as you all should know, was famous for ruling Florence. My supposed sister, Catherine de Medici, went on to be Queen of France.”  
“But you’re not a Medici.”  
Ange shook her head. “No, I’m not. It’s just one of the many aliases I had over the course of my life. The fact that Burr knows this, and chose to use it, means that he knows more than we thought… he might even know our true names.”  
“No,” Jefferson bit out. “That had better not be true.”  
Laf could understand his protestation - for Fae, names were sacred and powerful things, and no Fae worth their existence would willingly give their true name to anyone without a very, very good reason to do so.  
“It might be,” Ange replied evenly. Laf could still see the tension in her face.  
They blew out a breath. “What did the letter say?”  
“‘Don’t waste your time looking for me; I won’t help Alexander, and I’m already far away from Chicago. I won’t warn you again,’” she quoted.  
“Fuck.”  
“Okay, but what if it’s a ruse? What if he’s just trying to get us out of Chicago and away from him?” Peggy asked.  
When the team turned to her, she shrugged. “What? You have to admit it’s possible.”  
“No, it’s not that,” Ange said. “It’s just that we didn’t think about that, and it’s a good point. But what do we do about it?”  
That was the question, wasn’t it?  
“Well,” Laf started, “the best course of action would be to leave one person behind to search Chicago, just in case, while the rest of us move forward. The problem is, who?”  
They catalogued everyone in their head.  
Ange wouldn’t stay behind, they knew that for sure. Besides, they didn’t think anyone would dare tell her to not move forward.  
They would preferably also keep on going.  
Of the four others, Hercules was probably most suited to spying, surprising though it might seem. He was capable of being incredibly stealthy when he wanted to - plus, his disguises would ensure that he wouldn’t get caught easily.  
They met Ange’s eyes and raised an eyebrow. She nodded, already understanding what they were suggesting.  
“Hercules, you stay. You have disguises and stuff to keep safe, yeah?”  
The dwarf giant nodded. “I’ll keep you guys updated. Where are you headed next?”  
“There aren’t really any big cities in the Midwest… Dallas, most likely.”  
Maria made a face. “Do we have to? It’s so hot there, I feel weird just walking outside.”  
“Well, I mean, we could just go straight to the West Coast,” Ange said, “but considering that Burr might not even have moved… I’d feel better if we covered all our bases first. And besides, knowing him, he’d probably go to the nearest big city, anyway.”  
“Point.”  
Laf nodded. “Right, then. The tranq darts I ordered should be here within the day, so we’ll wait until they come before leaving.” And that was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you in a week!


	4. In Which We Are Closer To The Solution, Probably (Though It Doesn't Seem Like It)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Peggy! (Finally.)

Peggy was having a great day.   
Dallas was dry, which her inner fire sprite loved and her inner snow sprite hated; it was also humid, which her inner water sprite loved and her inner fire sprite hated. She ignored them all, because what mattered was that the food in Dallas was delicious.   
Yes, she was supposed to be sniffing around for Burr; yes, she was also supposed to contact Washington, but all of that could wait until _after_ she ate.   
With that in mind, she wasted an entire afternoon just finding different restaurants and food trucks to buy food from. It was time well spent, in her opinion; anyone who thought otherwise could shut up.   
Nothing could beat New York food, though.   
It wasn’t until dusk that she finally started in on what she was supposed to be doing.   
“Sir?” she said into the comms.   
“Peggy?”   
She blew out a sigh. “Yeah, it’s me. Ange just wanted me to tell you that we’re in Dallas, we got what amounted to a death threat from Burr in Chicago, who, by the way, knows one of Ange’s aliases from six hundred years ago, and we might not be able to get back until we go all the way to the West Coast. Also, Laf says thanks for the tranqs.”   
“Tell them you’re welcome,” Washington said absently. “What was the rest of that?”   
“We’re in Dallas-”   
“I got that part.”   
“-and we got a letter from Burr in Chicago-”   
“Uh-huh.”   
“-which was basically a death threat.”   
“What?”   
“Um, yeah. Anyways, it was addressed to Angelica de Medici, so there’s that.”   
From Washington’s sudden inhale, he knew exactly what that meant. “Shit.”   
“Yeah.”   
“Okay. Anything else?”   
“Oh, right. We’re probably going all the way to the West Coast before we can come back, if Burr continues to be an annoying asshole.”   
“Got it. Keep it up.”   
“Yes, sir.”   
There was a small beep that signified the end of the conversation. Peggy sighed again and switched back to the main channel.   
“Any leads so far?” she asked.   
All answers came back in the negative. She commiserated with them before going back to work.   
***   
“A person matching Burr’s description registered on a camera two blocks away,” Laf said one day out of the blue.   
Ange’s head snapped up. “Are you sure?”   
“Yes. Two blocks south.”   
Turns out Ange’s intuition was right, Peggy thought. Then again, was it ever wrong?   
She dismissed the thought with a shake of her head. “Okay, so how are we approaching this?”   
Laf thought for a moment. “Ange takes point, I’ll be eyes, Jefferson is backup.” They considered something. “Pegs, could you spring a trap? Like, with your size shifting and all that.”   
“Duh.”   
“Great. Maria, distraction for Peggy. Hopefully he thinks it’s for Ange and Jefferson and misses Peggy altogether.”   
With the plan laid out, the team moved into position. According to Laf, Burr was walking down the street, heading west, wearing a hoodie and shorts. Peggy shrunk down as much as she could while still being able to move at an acceptable speed, half shifting into air.   
“Ange, approach on my mark. Three, two, one, mark,” Laf said through the comms.   
Peggy pushed down a pang in her chest at the reminder of Alex - if he were here, he’d be the one doing surveillance and command.   
Through her earpiece, she could hear Ange’s heels click on the cement as she walked over.   
“Maria, distraction now.”   
Something happened - her senses told her it had to do with fire and electricity - and Laf chuckled. “That works. Pegs, you in position?”   
“Yeah, I’m good. Just say the word.” She was currently shadowing Burr, trying not to be stepped on, a tranq dart already loaded.   
“Jefferson, Ange, split… hold… Peggy, _go_.”   
On cue, she grew until she was her normal size again and pulled the trigger, not bothering to aim at point-blank range. The dart flew and hit Burr on the back of the neck.   
“Got him,” she said, voice smug even to her own ears.   
Peggy watched impassively as Burr continued on, oblivious to the tranquilizer in his bloodstream, before wobbling and falling forward. Ange waved a hand and did something so that the passerby wouldn’t take notice.   
Jefferson and Maria rushed over and dragged Burr’s unresponsive body up, hauling him back to their hotel, where Laf was waiting. She waited for Ange to finish up before following suit.   
The trip back to the hotel was uneventful, for which Peggy was extremely glad - the sooner they could get Burr to work his magic on Alex and then be rid of him, the better. The necromancer did not give her a good feeling, and it wasn’t because of his magic, either.   
When the two of them entered the room, it was to find Laf and Maria in a panic, Burr and Jefferson nowhere to be seen. She had a sinking feeling as to what happened.   
“What happened?” Peggy asked, just to make sure.   
Laf took a deep breath. “Jefferson’s gone, and so is Burr. I swear I saw both of them enter the elevator with Maria, but-”   
“-I walked out of the elevator, and when I looked back, both of them were gone,” Maria said.   
Ange cursed. “He knows Jefferson’s true name. It’s the only explanation.”   
Laf wasn’t done, though. They motioned to the computer. “A minute later, I received this email - from Burr.”   
“And?”   
Instead of answering, they clicked the mouse. A voice filled the room.   
“Could you please stop looking for me? I really don’t want to do a favor for Ha- for Alex. Besides, I already warned you.” A sigh. “Look, I don’t want a fight. I’m hoping you guys don’t either. Just stop trying to get me to revive the elf, will you? As a gesture of goodwill, I’ll even release the Fae in New York. And I won’t take the dwarf giant, either, from Chicago. Oh, and the mer’s fine, don’t worry about him. Happy now?” There was a pause. “One more time: stop looking for me. Thanks, hope I never see you again.”   
The room was silent.   
Peggy broke it. “So that’s Burr. Great.”   
“Contact Washington and Herc,” Ange snapped. “Check to see if he really kept his word.”   
Maria nodded and put one hand to her ear, talking lowly.   
The rest of them just stared at each other.   
“Herc is fine,” Maria said after a moment. She paused. “Washington says Jefferson isn't at headquarters, but Laurens is fine.”   
Ange snarled. “Damn him. Laf, can you respond to the email?”   
They nodded.   
“Good. Send him an email saying that we won’t ever bother him again if he does this one thing for us.” Laf was already typing as she talked. “And then tell him that if he doesn’t, he’s going to be blacklisted from America. Oh, and that we know he hasn't released Jefferson.”   
“Done.”   
Peggy looked at Ange. “Are you sure we want to do that?”   
“Pegs, as much as I don’t like it, yes,” she said, sighing. “I don’t want another one of you getting taken, and if Burr refuses to give you back, then. Well. I don’t think I could bear that.”   
Peggy shuddered, thinking of Ange’s mental state if that happened. “Yeah, that’s generally something we want to avoid,” she agreed.   
“Sent,” Laf reported. “Waiting for a reply.”   
It wasn’t long before they were back to typing on the computer, a small frown on their face.   
Maria raised an eyebrow. “Laf, is everything good?”   
“Just peachy,” they mumbled. “We did get a reply, but it’s all wonky.”   
“Read it out loud, please,” Ange said.   
“Straight towards the Bear, under the Maiden, when the Hunter’s affection is highest in the sky. Bring the Shadow, the Song, and the Sprite.”   
The vampire let out a long-suffering sigh. “Of course he does this.”   
Peggy was quite confused. “What do you mean? I mean, obviously the Sprite is me, and the Song is Maria, and the Shadow is Laf, but what in the everloving fuck does everything else mean?”   
Another sigh. “From what Washington’s told me, Burr is… slightly obsessed, to say the least, with being as cryptic as possible while not being too cryptic because that would mean no one would appreciate his crypticness.”   
Peggy blinked. “Okay.”   
“And from what I can gather, this is telling us to go straight north until we get to some random place in the Midwest, basically, at midnight, at which point he will either meet us or laugh at us for wasting our time.”   
The three of them stared at her.   
“The hell did you get all that from,” Maria gestured at the computer, “that?”   
“Well, let’s see,” Ange started. “The Bear is Ursa Major, of which the most famous star is the North Star, so we’re going north; the Maiden is Virgo, if I’m not mistaken, who’s based off Demeter, whose symbol is wheat - so in a wheat field would be the most obvious answer; and the Hunter’s affection - that’s the moon, so at its peak would be midnight. Because, you know, that’s how the old-timey people referred to it as, even though that’s not how it works. Realistically, since the moon is a waxing gibbous, it would be around ten-ish at night, so I guess we can go then. So there.”   
Stunned silence greeted her words.   
“Well, fuck.”   
"That sums it up pretty well."   
Out of the blue, Peggy had a thought. "Laf, can you ask Washington if we can borrow some portable power suppressors? We still have some, right?"   
Laf was already typing on their phone. They paused, waited a moment, and then resumed typing again. "Sorry," they said, fingers flying over the screen. "Washington says portable suppressors aren't enough - the ones back at headquarters should work, though, so as soon as we get Burr back there, he can't just, you know, do that weird disappearing thing."   
"Cool," Peggy responded. "So do we have nothing better to do than wait for four hours?"   
"Yup," Maria confirmed cheerfully. "Cards, anyone?"


	5. In Which We Have, In Fact, Found A Solution That Works, Albeit Unwillingly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally see what's happened to Jefferson, what's the problem with Burr, and what the team does about their problem!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm only halfway proud of this chapter, so I apologize if it isn't the best I've written. I'm also really sorry that I couldn't post this yesterday - something unexpected came up. Also, we're not completely done yet, so thank you so much for sticking with the story! (And the remaining three chapters are pretty long, so...

Jefferson glared at Burr, silent despite his obvious fury and rage.   
“Why are you looking at me like that?”   
He jabbed a finger pointedly at his throat, raising both eyebrows as sarcastically as he could. _I wonder why the hell I would try to murder you with my eyes if you took away my voice?_   
A sigh was the only response.   
They were currently in a nondescript room - he couldn’t even tell if it was a hotel room or not. Burr’s phone had dinged a few minutes ago; the necromancer had checked it, his expression as bland as ever, and put it away again.   
Jefferson couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling that Burr gave him. He could feel the death magic emanating from Burr’s body. It gave him a slimy feeling, like tentacles and sewers and algae.   
Long story short, it was gross. He’d already had to forcibly keep himself from shuddering several times.   
The nausea that was building at the back of his throat threatened to overwhelm him for the fifth (sixth?) time as Burr resumed his pacing. He wanted to scream, but of course even that wasn’t an option available to him.   
Who would’ve thought that the necromancer knew his true name?   
( _Old, manipulative, cunning trickster,_ a voice in his head said.)   
Burr’s phone dinged again, and he pulled it out to check it.   
Jefferson watched as his expression changed for the first time since he’d come to - the blank mask had been replaced by relief. Burr typed something out, tapped the screen twice, and put the phone away.   
“Jefferson, if I give you back your voice, will you promise not to yell?” he asked.   
His head snapped up, eyes narrowing.   
_Are you serious?_   
“Yes.”   
He moved his hands, signing in an archaic deaf language that he wasn’t sure even Washington knew.   
_You do realize you could just force me to, right? You have my-_ there wasn’t a way to convey the meaning of “true name,” so Jefferson just used the movement for “correct” _-name._   
Burr followed the motions of his hands intently. “Let me see if I got that right. You’re asking why I don’t just use your true name to force you to stay quiet?”   
He nodded.   
The necromancer snorted. “I wish. But I’m cursed: I can take, but once I give something back, I need to give everything back.”   
Something clicked into place.   
_Is that why you don’t want to help-_ how would one describe Alex _-the elf?_   
Burr smiled. “Smart, aren’t you? Yeah. Alex would tell you if he could.”   
_But he can’t._   
“No.”   
_So what did you take of his that you can’t give back?_   
“Think, Jefferson. What can Alex do? What would kill me if I gave it away? Not much, I can tell you that much. I’m a necromancer and a soulreader, after all.”   
There was a pause as he considered. As far as he knew, Alex was just a really old elf who could manipulate light, fight well, and… oh.   
Oh.   
“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” Burr asked with a wry chuckle that held very little humor.   
_Yes._ And he had, hopefully.   
“Well, you can tell me your theories later - but my original question still stands. Will you stay quiet?”   
He nodded grudgingly.   
“Good. Then I, Aaron Burr, necromancer, soulreader, give you, Thomas Jefferson, Fae, back anything and everything that I have ever taken from you.”   
All at once, he could talk again, and he somehow knew that Burr no longer had his true name. He cleared his throat.   
"Burr," he said, voice raspy, "what the hell?"   
"Well, I can't have your team forcing me to heal Alex, can I?"   
Jefferson shook his head. "Not that. You do realize that the team's going to come for me?"   
"Yeah, so I preempted them and gave them a time and place to meet."   
He had to admit that that made sense.   
***   
Ange led the run, Laf, Peggy, and Maria following close behind. It was close to ten, and fields of crops passed them by as they went straight north, true as an arrow.   
Ten o'clock ticked closer, then passed, and suddenly their deadline was midnight. Ange didn't stop.   
Exactly at midnight, a figure appeared in her line of sight - Burr. Her enhanced night vision could make out Jefferson beside the necromancer. She loosed a breath.   
"Jefferson's there," she said quietly, trusting that the team could hear. "So is Burr. He has no weapons."   
"Got it," Maria replied.   
Ange slowed as the four of them approached. "Burr."   
"Angelica."   
"Jefferson, are you okay?"   
The Fae nodded. "I'm fine, and Burr has something he absolutely needs to explain, now." He shot Burr a pointed look.   
The necromancer sighed. "Really?"   
"Really."   
"Fine. But you guys need to promise to not kill me."   
Laf interrupted, their voice bewildered. "Why would we kill you?"   
Burr's shrug was a smudge in the darkness. "It'd probably be more convenient for you." Yeah, that wasn't a promising note to start on.   
"Explain, then," she prompted.   
"My name is Aaron Burr. I'm immortal, a soulreader, a necromancer." It sounded rehearsed, and Ange's suspicions were proven right when Jefferson elbowed Burr in the side with a hiss to "Hurry up already!"   
Burr groaned. "Anyway, I was cursed a long time ago. The premise is that I can take but not give; if I give someone anything, I have to - or automatically do - give them back everything I've ever taken from them."   
"Okay?"   
"Now, I personally hold nothing against Alex, unlike what _certain people_ may have told you." Here, he shot Jefferson a dirty look. The Fae shrugged uncaringly.   
This was news to Ange, but she put it aside to process later, because Burr was talking again.   
"The problem is that he gave me something that I can't give back - because I don't want to die."   
"Wait, wait. _He_ gave _you_ something-"   
"Yes."   
"That doesn't mean you _took_ it from him."   
Burr huffed out a laugh, sounding far too amused for their current situation. Ange reminded herself to keep her powers under control.   
"The curse doesn't exactly differentiate between the two. Trust me, I figured that out the hard way."   
"Yeah, well, what did Alex give you that's so important you'd die otherwise?" Peggy asked, lacking any semblance of tact.   
"Think for a moment, little sprite. Why am I immortal in the first place?"   
"I'm not a _little sprite_."   
Ange held up a hand. "Peggy, chill. Burr, are you… implying that Alex gave you your powers?"   
"Looks like Jefferson's not the only smart one in the group."   
"Aren't you supposed to be born with them or something?"   
Jefferson laughed at that - laughed louder than Ange had ever heard him laugh. "No," he said between gasps, "that's not what he meant. Not at all."   
Her confusion must have shown, because Burr gave another long-suffering sigh and explained, "He's right. I was born with my powers, yes, but that curse I was talking about? It took it away, and I would have died right then if not for Alex. He knows magic as old as the universe, did you know that? Magic that was capable of giving me back my powers… and letting me resurrect myself."   
Ange, in fact, did not know. Based on Laf's expression, they also did not know. Based on Jefferson's expression… he knew.   
She raised one eyebrow at him, conveying everything without saying a word. He winced apologetically.   
Ange decided to let that one slide.   
Instead, she turned very purposefully to the three supernaturals behind her.   
"Maria. Would you die for Alex?"   
"In a heartbeat," she replied.   
"Peggy, would you die for Alex?"   
"Of course."   
"Laf, would you die for Alex?"   
"Without a doubt."   
Then she turned back around. "Jefferson. Would you die for Alex?"   
"As much as I hate to admit it sometimes, yes."   
Ange looked at Burr. "I would die for Alex, I would kill for Alex, I _have_ killed for Alex - and all of us would do the same. Know this: your life means nothing, _nothing_ , compared to his. Laf." The last word was an order.   
Burr's eyes flickered over to them before widening. He took a deep breath, presumably to try and escape, but Laf was faster. They unsheathed a pistol in the blink of an eye and shot Burr in the side.   
Burr toppled over, unconscious, a tranq dart sticking out. Jefferson walked over.   
"Nice work. Back to headquarters?"   
"Back to headquarters," she agreed, and slung Burr unceremoniously over her shoulder before starting the run back.


	6. In Which We Have Finally Solved The Problem (But The Story Is Not Yet Over)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the climax of the story, but I still have another chapter (and the epilogue) to put up, so... I hope you stick around!

Aaron woke up to a pounding headache.  
He groaned as he opened his eyes. "What…?"  
Angelica stood above him, smirking. "Welcome back to the land of the living, sleeping beauty."  
He frantically grabbed for his power, intending to escape through the spirit plane again, but stopped cold.  
"What did you do to my powers?"  
"Power suppressors."  
A spark of panic flared to life in his chest. "I'm going to die!"  
"No, you're not, calm down," Angelica said, looking far too amused for his liking. "It doesn't take away your powers - you just can't use them intentionally."  
Aaron slumped back down on the bed in defeat. "I'm assuming we're where Alex is?"  
"Mhm."  
"And you want me to heal him." It wasn't a question in the slightest, but she answered anyway.  
"Yes." She didn't give him any time to respond before grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him out of the room.  
"Where are you forcibly dragging me to?"  
"You'll find out." Okay, that wasn't ominous at all or anything.  
They ended up in a nondescript room, its only significant characteristic being that it was absolutely freezing.  
Oh, and there were eight other supernaturals in the room, all of whom Aaron recognized and was absolutely _terrified_ of.  
"Why am I even here?" he asked the room at large.  
As one, the group, which had been huddled around a control board of some sort, turned around and glared at him. He wished for his powers if only so he could escape the looks.  
"You are here," Washington snapped - and if the warlock was here then this was very bad indeed - "because Alex needs to be healed."  
Aaron opted for a raised eyebrow to hide his nerves.  
Washington's glower darkened. "Burr, by the powers that be, if you don't help Alex I will _kill_ you." Aaron noticed, with even more apprehension, that there was a trace of an accent that hadn't been there before - one that screamed _danger_.  
"Well, seems like I'll die either way, then," he said, shrugging. At Washington's baffled look, he turned to Angelica. "You didn't tell him?"  
"No," she replied curtly. "Feel free to do so yourself."  
He declined as politely as he could, given the circumstances. Angelica smirked at him.  
John turned away, bored, and punched something on the board.  
"Laurens, what are you _doing_?"  
"Getting Alex."  
The room broke into chatter. Aaron watched, observant, as he tried to calm his racing heart.  
When he could finally think straight again, he searched his mind for another option. Alex was his friend, but death held no particular appeal. The most obvious option was to find another of his kind, but there were none that owed favors to him.  
Did any of them owe favors to one of the IIU? Well, it couldn't hurt to try.  
"What I'm about to say does not leave this room." His voice sliced through the murmurs of conversation.  
Lafayette turned to him, their face slightly amused. Next to them, Thomas did the same, but with an additional raised eyebrow.  
"What is it?" Lafayette asked.  
Aaron shook his head. "Swear on your eternal soul that you will tell no one of what I say."  
They sighed. "Very well. My soul isn't worth very much, anyway" - their voice was mocking - "so I swear on my eternal soul that I will not divulge any information you happen to tell any one of us in this room to anyone not currently also in the room. Happy?"  
"Enough," Aaron replied. "Now everyone else."  
Grudgingly, each supernatural gave their assent and vow.  
Aaron closed his eyes, silently asking his fellow necromancer-soulreaders to forgive him. "I'm going to give you a list of people. If any of them owes you a favor, please speak up."  
He recited the entire list of his kind that were still alive by memory. "Catherine Van Rensselaer. Martha Manning. John Church. Adrienne de Noailles. Philip - oh."  
"What?"  
Aaron ignored Angelica, instead putting one hand into his pocket - _please don't let it have fallen out, please don't let it have fallen out_ \- and, to his immense relief, found a phone inside. He pulled it out and opened it.  
"Burr, what are you doing?" Hercules asked.  
He spared the dwarf giant no more than a glance before going back to the (frankly overcomplicated) task of unlocking the information he needed. "Something that could save Alex's life and mine."  
No one asked him anything after that.  
Finally, after several agonizing minutes, he pressed a number, placing the call and putting it on speaker. Eliza plucked it from his grasp and set it on the control panel.  
The dial tone rang several times through the room before the person on the other end picked up. "Burr?"  
The connection was crackly, but it would do. "Philip."  
"What do you need?"  
Peggy moved to say something. Aaron silenced her with a look and a frantic shake of his head.  
"Your dad's dead, hurry up and heal him before his friends decide they want me to do it."  
" _What?_ "  
"Do I need to repeat myself?"  
There was a pause on the other end. "No. Where are you? I can get there in twenty-four hours."  
"Where are _you_? Someone can pick you up, the people who own the building don't want its location known."  
"Somewhere in Australia. I'll be standing in front of the Sydney Opera House in exactly ninety minutes. Whoever's picking me up needs to tell me the code word 'Hamilton.' I'll be the one in the red cap. Got it?"  
"Yes, thank you."  
Philip scoffed. "He's my dad. Did you really think I wouldn't?"  
"Regardless. See you soon."  
"See you." The line went dead.  
Maria turned to Burr, a question clear on her face. "Dad?"  
"Not biologically," he sighed, resigning himself to another explaining session. "But Philip's mortal family threw him out when he was two and started showing signs of his powers. Alex found him and raised him, basically, and found him someone to train with."  
"When was this?"  
"Philip is fairly young, by immortal standards. I think he was born at the start of the nineteenth century?"  
Thomas narrowed his eyes. "You said Alex found him a mentor."  
"Yes."  
"And this mentor was…" Though the Fae left the sentence open-ended, as a question, Aaron knew Thomas already had his suspicions.  
He finished the sentence anyway. "Me."  
"And you agreed?"  
He snorted. "Alex and I aren't mortal enemies, Jefferson, no matter what _certain people_ think."  
The unimpressed look Thomas gave him conveyed everything he didn't say.  
Aaron forced the subject from his mind. "Okay. Who's picking Philip up?"  
"I'll go," Washington volunteered. "Australia's on the opposite side of the world; none of you will make it in time." Without another word, he disappeared.  
"But-" Ange cursed and sighed. "Of course this is what happens."  
***  
Washington was back in ninety-two minutes with Philip, who had an air of complete and utter boredom and disdain evident in his expression. To his credit, the teen (by immortal standards) was completely unfazed by Washington's… unique method of transportation.  
Philip scanned the room and immediately zeroed in on Aaron, grinning. "Mr. Burr, sir!"  
Aaron groaned. "I've told you not to call me that for decades now."  
"Like I'm going to listen," Philip shot back.  
Aaron was about to reply when Philip hissed in a breath and prepared to try to escape. "No!" he shouted.  
Philip paused, lips curled back from his teeth. "Burr, if you need me to get you out of this place, say the word."  
"There are power suppressors."  
"Washington gave me something to counteract them."  
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Your dad's here."  
That made Philip hesitate. "Are you serious? _These people_ have my dad?"  
Washington stepped forward. "If you could please calm down-"  
" _Don't tell me to calm down!_ " Philip took a shuddering breath and pointed one shaking finger at Washington. "I don't trust you at all, warlock. Or you, Dearg Due, or you, shapeshifter prince, or you, Old Fae, or any of the rest of you. Let me make something very, very clear: the _only_ person I trust here is Burr, and when I heal him, my dad."  
Angelica looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What are you talking about, child? The Dearg Due is a myth."  
"And the shapeshifters have no prince," Lafayette added with a nervous laugh.  
Philip ignored both of them. "Where's my father?"  
Aaron didn't miss the glance Angelica and Lafayette exchanged, one that promised, _We'll talk more later._ He didn't comment on it.  
Eliza moved over to the control board and punched a few buttons, tapping the screen intermittently as well. After a few minutes, she stepped back.  
The floor whirred to life. Aaron half-expected steam to hiss up, like a cliché science fiction novel, but instead a cryo pod slid smoothly up and halted smartly as the bottom cleared the floor.  
Through the frosted glass, he could just make out a face - Alexander.  
Eliza motioned in the general direction of the pod. "He's all yours."  
Philip walked over calmly, Aaron moving in the same direction. A pair of hands caught his arm and pulled him back. He turned around.  
"Hercules, release me right now."  
"Not until you tell me why you want to interfere."  
Aaron stood perfectly still as he replied, "Because I'm Philip's mentor, remember? I'm there in case something goes wrong."  
"I thought you couldn't help Alex."  
"Alex, sure, but the same doesn't apply to Philip. Now, release me, preferably before Philip gets to the crucial part."  
Hercules reluctantly released his grip and Aaron rushed to Philip's side.  
Thankfully, Philip had a modicum of common sense (unlike basically everyone else in the room) and had stopped after preparing for the healing. Aaron looked over everything with a critical eye and nodded. "Just like I taught you, okay? You've got this."  
Philip caught his eye, smiled, and said, "Of course, Mr. Burr, sir." Aaron wanted to protest but stepped back silently instead, observing.  
Taking a deep breath, Philip started.  
Flickers of a dark, lightless black swirled around his hands. He closed his eyes.  
Without warning, he placed one hand on Alexander's chest, his magic sinking down to find the soul cavity, from which he could then find Alexander's soul. When the magic hummed, Aaron nodded; that was a very good sign.  
The next few minutes passed in tense silence as Philip tried to bring Alexander's soul back into his body. As far as he knew, Aaron couldn't see anything wrong with what Philip was doing.  
Suddenly, Philip hissed and removed his hand. The IIU collectively tensed.  
Aaron counted down the seconds in his head. _Five, four, three…  
Two…  
One…_  
Alexander gasped and sat up in the blink of an eye.  
Aaron allowed himself a smile as Philip turned to him, sweat beading on his forehead, grinning proudly. The two of them ignored the cheering filling the room. "Can we get out of here now?" Philip asked.  
He nodded gratefully. "If you would please."  
Aaron had just taken his hand when a voice stopped both of them in their tracks. "Pip? Burr? What are you doing here?"  
He sighed, dropping Philip's hand, and turned back around. "Alex."  
"Oh, stop being such a bore. Come over here, it's not every day my oldest friend comes and visits me - with my son."  
"Who is, of course, my mentee," Aaron dryly commented.  
"Guess who put both of you in that position?" Alexander looked far too happy for Aaron's taste.  
"You," he responded anyway. "How much do you remember?"  
Alexander frowned. "The operation… I'm pretty sure we got Ange out, right? And then I remember cornering the king… and then the next memory I have is of all you guys, and then-" He spread his hands and shrugged. "Nothing."  
Aaron sighed. "Alex, you _died_."  
Alexander blinked. "That's… surprisingly unsurprising, honestly. How long was I dead?"  
"Three weeks," John Laurens choked out. "Three _fucking_ weeks of hunting for Burr over here, and then I couldn't even go on because I got stabbed in the stomach."  
"Of course you did. Also, side note, I'm really fucking cold."  
Eliza hurried forward and tapped the control board again. "You should be good in a few."  
"Thanks. Continuing on, did you guys manage to find Burr? Color me impressed."  
"Yeah, we kinda figured it wouldn't be easy."  
"They were being overly bothersome, so I took Jefferson and conducted a trade," Aaron defended himself. "I wasn't exactly expecting them to tranq me and then carry me to this place so I could heal you, was I?"  
Alexander's expression morphed into one of horror. "Wait, but if you healed me - then - please tell me they didn't force you to do anything."  
Aaron smiled a little. "No, nothing happened, though it came close. Philip did a perfectly good job."  
At his words, Alexander glared around the room. "You guys almost killed Burr, and for what? _Me?_ "  
"Yes," Angelica replied, head held high. "And I would do it all over again."  
"Don't. Burr is a friend, he's my friend, and more importantly, he owes me nothing. We settled the debt a long time ago."  
Angelica pursed her lips. "Fine."  
"Thank you."  
Again, Aaron turned to Philip, who looked ready to leave (he held the same sentiment), and again, Alexander's voice stopped him.  
"Burr! Where are you going?"  
"I know enough about supernaturals to understand that necromancers are generally unwelcome no matter where they go, Alex," he answered a touch wryly. "I'll leave you to your celebration and recuperation."  
Philip held out a hand, which Aaron took without hesitation. "Let's go."  
"But-"  
"See you around, Alex. The rest of you, hopefully never. And just a thought, perhaps you should air out your secrets, hmm?" There was a smile in his voice even as he didn't bother to turn back around.  
"Bye, Dad, see you around, please don't die anytime soon!" Philip called as he transported both of them into the spirit plane.  
Aaron left with Alexander's half-hearted protestations ringing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Philip's here!!! (And gone again.)  
> Also, secrets? Maybe - you'll just have to find out next time :)


	7. In Which The Problem Is Finally And Totally Solved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we clear everything up... although if you noticed, there's one more chapter to go! Stay tuned, because I have quite a bit to say next week.

Alex turned to the team. "So. What the hell was Burr talking about?"   
Ange said, "I have no idea," but Alex caught her eye twitching - the only tell she had - and shook his head.   
"Liar."   
"I'm not a liar."   
Washington sighed. "Enough. Angelica, you know exactly what he meant. Alex, are you sure you want the explanation?"   
"Sir!" Ange protested.   
Alex didn't have to consider for long. "Yes."   
"Then I leave it in your hands, Angelica." With that, he teleported away before anyone could react.   
Ange snarled, but it lacked the anger that usually accompanied the sound. She sighed. "Fine. Search up Dearg Due, you'll find me. Or, well, me when I was less than a thousand."   
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Why, exactly, is there a _myth_ based on you?"   
"Because I'm the oldest vampire in existence, okay?" Ange threw her hands in the air. "Happy?"   
Alex's jaw dropped. "Wait… but - actually, never mind. Laf, what about you?"   
The shapeshifter groaned, putting their head in their hands. "Must I?"   
"I did it," Ange pointed out.   
"Fine," they pouted. "I am Lafayette, the shapeshifter prince, exactly as Philip said, though I have no idea how he knew-"   
"The answer, of course, is Burr."   
"Okay, then. Burr told him, fine. As I was saying… Lafayette, the shapeshifter prince, in title only."   
Alex raised an eyebrow.   
Laf sighed. "That's it, I swear."   
Rolling his eyes, Alex scoffed but let the matter drop. "Anyone else have secret identities you'd like to talk about?"   
"I'm Old Fae, but I'm pretty sure you already knew that."   
"I did."   
Eliza, who had gone to another room to get some food, poked her head back inside. "Is it spill your guts day today?"   
"Seems like it," Herc agreed pleasantly. "Wanna watch the inevitable trainwreck?"   
"Sure."   
Alex, who had gone back to ignoring the room and was tapping away on his phone, said, "I mean, if we're really telling our secrets today, would it be too much to say that I invented magic?" He was fairly certain he knew how the rest of them would react.   
It was amusing, actually, to see Ange recoil automatically from him, and for Maria to peer at him with both interest and trepidation, and for Laf to suddenly look very, very suspicious.   
"Relax," he said, exuding as much nonchalance as possible. "I can't take magic away, if that's what you were wondering."   
Apparently, it was, because the tension in the room suddenly dropped to nothing and everyone took his advice and relaxed. He grinned. "What, did you think it was even possible?"   
Laf smiled broadly and laughed. "You gave us quite the shock, _mon ami_. Try to avoid that in the future, yeah?"   
Alex agreed with only a little reluctance. "Now, if no one else has anything to add…?" When there was no response, he smiled. "Good. I'm hungry, Eliza, you got food, right?"   
"Here," she said. "Don't die on us again."   
"I would never."   
***   
Washington came back to visit a few days later, when Alex was feeling better (or, as he put it, not like he was going to die again).   
Alex lifted his head from the tablet he was working on at the familiar sound of teleportation. "Oh, hey, Washington!"   
"Hello, Alex. How are you?"   
He shrugged. "I feel fine, but the mother hens that run this place insist I need more rest."   
"You do need more rest!" Laf called out from where they were passing by in the hallway.   
"I do not," Alex shot back. He turned and sighed. "See? This is what I have to put up with all the time."   
Washington chuckled. "I've often found that when Lafayette gets in this kind of mood, it's impossible to escape them."   
"You're not wrong. Anyway, what did you need?"   
"I thought I'd check up on you all after, you know, Burr's visit and subsequent events."   
_Washington sure had a nice way of putting things_ , Alex thought. Outwardly, he just nodded. "Do you want me to get everyone?"   
"If you could."   
He made a face. "I got shot in the chest, not the legs." Without giving Washington a chance to respond, he dashed out of the room, probably faster than was healthy.   
If Laf found out, they'd have his head. Alex resolved not to let them find out.   
He passed on the message as quickly as he could, and the team was assembled within minutes in the kitchen.   
Alex surreptitiously took a banana.   
Washington looked them over for a few moments without saying anything before smiling. "You all look well."   
"We're fine," Eliza said. "Well, Ange is sulking, Laf was hiding on their floor, and Jefferson's been avoiding Alex, but other than that we're fine."   
"I haven't been sulking!" Ange protested.   
Eliza gave her an unimpressed look. "What would you call not talking to anyone and glaring at the wall, then?"   
Alex was rather impressed by Eliza's nerve. Not many people would dare tell Ange off (not even he was rash enough to do it), but Eliza seemed to have some sort of immunity to Ange's scariness. He wished he was immune too.   
Ange pouted for a moment before conceding. "Fine. I've been sulking. Can you really blame me?"   
"Yes?"   
The vampire sighed and collapsed into a chair. "I'll try to sulk less. No promises."   
"On to a more pressing matter," Washington said quickly. "Has Jefferson really been avoiding Alex?"   
Jefferson held up his hands. "Can you blame me?" he asked, echoing Ange. "Alex literally told us he invented magic! Which, in case you haven't noticed, is something _that I have_."   
Alex protested, "I told them I couldn't take it away!"   
Washington sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you, perhaps, forget to mention that you only _discovered_ the source of magic on Earth and then figured out what types of magic were possible?"   
"… Maybe."   
"Did you also, perhaps, forget to mention that you don't have access to any of said magic besides that with which you were born?"   
"… Maybe."   
Washington blew out an exasperated breath. "Jefferson, is that enough to convince you that Alex can't do anything with your magic?"   
Jefferson frowned. "I suppose."   
"Good. And lastly, Lafayette, why have you been hiding on your floor?"   
Laf looked down. "They know who I am."   
"Yes."   
They raised their head and met Washington's eyes. "I'm the shapeshifter prince, sir! I'm a danger, a risk to the team!"   
"No, you're not," Alex, Laurens, and Herc said at the same time.   
Laf looked at the three of them. "You don't know what you're talking about."   
"Come on! I don't care if the entirety of the shapeshifter world is after you - and I know that's not the case, anyway - I would fight every shapeshifter in the world for you," Alex argued. " _You_ don't know what you're talking about."   
"Regardless," Washington interrupted, "it does not matter, because the bona fide leader of the shapeshifters has been killed, and no one is willing to take his spot. One of my brethren is handling the situation as we speak, but the main thing is-"   
"I won't die if I decide to reveal myself to the world."   
"Yes."   
Laf finally smiled genuinely for the first time since Alex was healed.   
The atmosphere lightened after that. Washington summoned some wine, to which Ange laughed and said, "I suppose I should get my own vintage?"   
"Go for it."   
Ange, in fact, did get her own bottle, the liquid inside covered by the tinted glass.   
Maria declined, saying that alcohol and sirens didn't mix very well. As a concession, she grabbed a bottle of sparkling apple cider from the pantry. Everyone else got their own glass of wine.   
Washington held his up, the glass winking in the bright lighting. "To Alex being not dead, and to Maria killing the king."   
"We completely forgot about that, didn't we?" Maria mused. "In the aftermath of Alex getting shot."   
Ange shrugged, taking a sip. "We can celebrate properly now, at least."   
"True."   
Later, only Maria and Ange would remember that night, because everyone else was completely drunk by the end.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And...close.

The phone rang.  
Eliza debated not picking it up (she was exhausted - working at the local hospital wasn't easy, even for a supernatural), but one look at the caller ID had her pressing the accept button.  
"Ange?"  
"Hey," the vampire said, voice crackling. "How are you?"  
Eliza flopped onto the bed. "Fine. Life's a lot more boring now."  
"No kidding?"  
She laughed. "How are you? I haven't seen you in a while now."  
Ange paused. "I mean, I still do freelance stuff, so nothing's changed, really. I miss you all, though."  
"Oh, right, do you know where everyone else is?"  
"Alex’s in the Caribbean for some reason - I think he's learning _another_ form of elf magic? Because apparently already knowing ten different forms isn't enough."  
"Of course not," Eliza agreed sarcastically.  
"John and Maria are underwater; we probably won't be seeing them for a while."  
"That's a shame."  
Ange hummed in agreement. "Laf went to France-"  
"Oh my god, remember when they announced their title to the world?"  
"How could I forget?" Ange replied, snorting. "Goes and walks into the supernatural leader meeting and says, 'Hey. I'm representing the shapeshifters now.'"  
Eliza burst into laughter again. "I forgot you were there! Oh, that must have been hilarious."  
"It was."  
"Oh, how's Pegs?"  
"She's doing fine. I think she's in China somewhere?"  
Familiar footsteps preceded the front door creaking open. Eliza didn't even bother to get up. "That's nice. Oh, by the way, Herc wants to tell you that Canada's a nice place to visit in the fall." They had a mutual understanding that it was a code, of course; Herc, like Ange, was still doing missions for fun. Or, well, at least to have something to do.  
A face appeared in the doorway. Eliza waved a hand, and he responded with a thumbs-up before retreating back to the living room, probably.  
"Anyway, Jefferson just came back from whatever it was he went to do; I suppose I'm making dinner again."  
"You never told me you were living with Jefferson." Ange's voice was accusing.  
Eliza scoffed lightly. "As if. No, it's just that Jefferson and I both wanted to, you know, settle down, and we found a pair of apartments that we're really cheap - yeah, I know we have money," she said before Ange could interrupt. "But turns out it was because there was a ghost haunting them, so we made it a deal. It's gone now."  
"Well, I suppose it doesn't hurt to have someone watching your back."  
"Nope. Speaking of, how's Washington?"  
"That's nowhere near what we were speaking of."  
"I don't care."  
Eliza heard Ange laugh. "Fair enough. He's fine, Martha's fine as well, if you're wondering. I think they opened a bakery?"  
"Yeah, I heard. Listen, Ange, I've got to go, call more often, love you, bye!"  
"Bye." Eliza hung up.  
She went out into the small but functional living room, where (surprise, surprise) Jefferson was waiting, engrossed with his phone. "Hi."  
He looked up. "Hey. You're cooking."  
"Of course I am." Internally, Eliza wanted to tell Ange _I told you so!_  
She sat unceremoniously on an overstuffed armchair and sighed. "Do you want mac and cheese again?"  
He put away his phone, grinning. "You know me so well."  
Eliza didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, she asked, "How was your day?"  
"Fine, I guess. One of my clients was being a bitch about how she didn't want the library next to the kitchen or some shit. I don't remember."  
Right. Jefferson's job as an architect often resulted in him complaining about his clients and this one sparked a memory. "Is this the one who also thought an indoor garden was a good idea?"  
"Yes! You remember?"  
"You whine too much for me not to remember," she replied dryly. "Now, is James coming over?"  
_James_ was James Madison, a fellow Fae who so happened to work at the same architectural firm, and who often came around for dinner for lack of anything better to do.  
"He is."  
Eliza made a wordless sound of acknowledgement but made no move to get up. "Have I ever said how glad I am Washington disbanded us?"  
"And how glad you are that we killed the king? Yes. Frequently, in fact."  
She supposed that was a fair point.  
"Well, _I_ am exhausted, thank you very much for asking."  
Jefferson looked at her with a sheepish expression. "Sorry. Do you want me to make dinner instead…?"  
Eliza waved him off with one hand. "No, I've got it."  
They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Jefferson spoke up again. "Hey, was that Ange on the phone?"  
"Mhm."  
"How is she, by the way?" _How are they all?_ was the unasked question.  
"She's fine. They're all fine. It's a shame we can't hear from John or Maria, though."  
"Oh?"  
"They went underwater for some reason, remember?"  
Jefferson's expression cleared as he nodded. "Right."  
"Are we eating in your apartment or mine?" Eliza asked as she stood up and headed towards the small kitchenette.  
Jefferson went back to texting on his phone. "Let me ask James."  
There was no point in responding, so she set a pot of water to boil on the stove before going out the front door and directly across the hall.  
"Jefferson! Your apartment's locked, asshole!"  
"No, it isn't!" he called back. The doorknob shimmered for a moment before going back to normal.  
Eliza tested the door again. This time, it turned smoothly under her palm, and she pushed the door open and stepped inside.  
Jefferson had the larger of the two apartments for some reason - well. She knew the reason: he was an extravagant person with too much stuff to fit into a smaller apartment. She didn't mind too much, though.  
There was a well-worn path on the carpet from the entryway to the storage room, which was basically filled with boxes of mac and cheese. As always, Eliza was completely baffled by Jefferson's favorite food.  
She grabbed two boxes and moved to go back to her own apartment when something caught her eye. It was a photograph, in his "study" of sorts, in an elegant silver frame. Eliza picked it up and studied it, the mac and cheese set down and forgotten on the desk.  
"Jefferson," she said softly, knowing the Fae could still hear her, "where…? When…?"  
He came into the room a few seconds later, immediately spotting the photograph she held. "Oh."  
It was a picture of the IIU, when there was still such a thing, on one of their rare days without a mission. Ange was laughing, looking years younger than she did now, at something Maria had said - or was it Peggy? Alex, Laurens, Laf, and Herc were drinking something probably alcoholic, heads tipped back in glee. Eliza herself was sitting off to the side, smiling fondly, accompanied by Washington and his wife, Martha. The only person missing was Jefferson.  
"I didn't know this existed," Eliza said softly.  
"You weren't supposed to," Jefferson responded in the same tone.  
She ignored him. "Where are you?"  
"Taking the picture, of course."  
Eliza tsked. "I distinctly remember you sitting with Laf and the others, drinking. And see? There's even an empty chair there."  
Jefferson sighed. "Here."  
He waved a hand over the picture. It sparkled for a moment before reverting back to normal, with one small exception - Jefferson was in the picture now, exactly where Eliza has said he should be.  
She had a question. "Why?"  
"Why what?"  
"Why did you take yourself out of the picture?"  
He scoffed. "I used to be there. Then two centuries in…"  
Two centuries in. What happened then? Eliza racked her mind for answers and - oh. He'd compromised a mission, and she remembered being incredibly mad at him - though that hadn't even touched how furious Ange had been. Of course he must have thought he was unwelcome.  
She hugged him, taking him by surprise if his startle was anything to go by. "I'm sorry."  
"Don't be," he said, extracting himself. "I deserved it. I just made myself more miserable for no reason."  
Eliza glared at him. "You did not deserve it. I can't believe we were stupid enough-" She stopped, frustrated. "Don't blame yourself."  
Jefferson smiled slightly. "I'll try. Now, mac and cheese?"  
"Fine."  
The mac and cheese was ready in three minutes, and she was setting the table - because manners - when James walked through the door. "I couldn't find Thomas in his apartment, so therefore he must be here."  
"You'd be right."  
Eliza turned and looked at Jefferson. "Your first name is _Thomas_?"  
He looked at her, just as baffled. "You never knew?"  
"I don't think anyone knew."  
James sat down and groaned. "All that aside, mac and cheese? Again?"  
"Yup," Jefferson informed him cheerily.  
Eliza said nothing, still trying to process the fact that Jefferson had such a mundane name. "I don't think even Ange knew."  
They both turned to look at her. "Are you sure?" Jefferson asked. "She seems like the type of person to know everything."  
"She's also the type of person to not admit she doesn't know something, so yes."  
Jefferson shrugged and turned back to eating. "Fair."  
"Wait, wait," James said, completely ignoring his bowl. "You two knew each other from before-" he gestured at the general surroundings "-all this?"  
Eliza traded a glance with Jefferson and nodded. "Do you want to hear the story?"  
James nodded.  
"It's a good thing you're sitting down, then, because it's a pretty long one…"  
**Fin.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. God.  
> I'm done. I finished it.  
> This will be the end of the series, because I have several other projects I'm working on, but it will forever hold a special place in my heart as the first series I've ever attempted - and finished. I can't put into words the amount of love, time, and effort I've invested in the story of the IIU, and the fact that it all worked out-  
> It's really just incredible.  
> And so, to anyone who's ever put any amount of time into reading In Bocca Al Lupo - any time at all - and to everyone who's left kudos and comments, I'd like to say thank you so much for sticking with me. I love you with all my heart.  
> \- Leeny


End file.
